Mila (Heartbreaker #3) (14 page)

My little niece, being the stinker that she is, shakes her head.

“No? Why not?” he asks her.

“No sissy! No sissy!” She squeals and then goes back to shoveling eggs into her mouth.

“Hmm…she doesn’t seem to want a baby sister,” Brian says.

“She is only two. She probably has no idea what we mean. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for her to be away from Nico and Jill.”

Nico calls while we’re cleaning up and asks us to bring Nicola up to the hospital. I hand Brian my keys so he can drive and load little princess into the backseat.

When we get to the hospital and get inside, we find everyone in the little visiting room that’s on the birth center. Nicola squirms to get out of my arms and runs right to her daddy. Brian wraps an arm around my shoulder as we watch my niece hug Nico. You can clearly see the joy fill my brother’s body as he snuggles his daughter close.

He disappears with her down the hall, wanting to introduce Nicola to her baby sister first. “Where’s little Gabe?” I ask Jasmine and Gabe.

“He’s with my mom and brother,” Jasmine says. We talk about their upcoming baby, which they’ve found out is a little girl.

Chapter Fifteen

Brian

It’s been a week since Mila’s niece was born, and Mila has been trying very hard to hide the fact that she’s hurting. Every time she holds that baby girl, I can literally see a part of her die. Her smile is forced and her eyes, which now just look sad, have lost their sparkle.

To the naked eye, she appears to be fine, but I know she’s not. I’ve wanted to talk to Nico about it, but with the new baby at home, I figure they have enough on their plate.

When I pull into my driveway, I see Mila’s already here. I step inside and see her curled up on the couch, watching a movie.

“Hey, baby.” I move toward the couch, sitting down so she can lay her head in my lap. I sift my hand through her hair while she stares at the TV. “What did you do today?”

“I worked on a painting and did some laundry. How was your day?” Her voice is a little flat.

“It was good. I did a surprise home visit on a couple that got their first foster child earlier this week. Things are going well there and the little boy seems extremely happy already,” I tell her. “Are you hungry? I can make us some dinner or order take out.”

“No, I’m okay right now,” she mutters.

I’m at a loss on what to do. I know letting her lie around and sulk is doing her no favors, but I don’t know how to help her. I feel like I’m in unfamiliar waters. The day before, I called my mom and talked to her about what was happening. She wanted to come over and try to talk to Mila herself, but I told her that it was okay, she didn’t need to. I didn’t want Mila to feel like I had betrayed her trust by telling my mom about her inability to have children.

I tell her to lift her head so I can stand up. In the kitchen, I make myself a sandwich and try to think of a way to bring her out of this. It dawns on me that I could probably talk to one of my families that did the foster-to-adopt program and maybe they could share what a wonderful program it is, how rewarding it is too.

Back in the living room, I see that Mila is asleep. She needs to talk to someone about how she’s feeling. She can’t get like this every time someone has a baby. I’ll give her another day or two, and if she’s not snapping out of it then, I’ll do something.

Very gently, I wake her up and watch as she sleepily heads into the bathroom and disappears into my bedroom. I walk down the hall and find her in my bed, fast asleep.

With a sigh, I look up at the ceiling. I really can’t wait any longer. Tomorrow, when I get to the office, I’m going to find one of my families, bring them into the office, and let them talk to her. She’ll thank me for it.

Before I walk out, I look up at the painting hanging above my bed. It’s the painting that we made together. I love it, and even though the colors don’t go with my room, I couldn’t imagine not having it hanging there.

***

Debbie and Matt are sitting in the conference room with me while we wait for Mila to get here. I decided to lure her here with the promise of a lunch date. I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but I have a feeling she wouldn’t have been receptive to coming and listening to Debbie and Matt’s story, which is so similar to hers.

“I appreciate you guys coming in to talk to us,” I tell them.

“It’s no problem, Brian. I’ve been where Mila’s been. You know there are options out there, but you’re being stubborn about it. It took two years before Matt was able to convince me to look into other options. I’m so glad he was able to break through to me,” Debbie says with a smile and wraps her arms around Matt. They wanted to bring their son, Max, but he’s two and a wild man.

A knock on the door pulls my attention away from them. It’s our receptionist letting me know that Mila’s here. “I’ll be right back.” I excuse myself and take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I make my way out front and find Mila sitting in one of the chairs. Her hair is in a ponytail and she’s wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts. Since we’ve been together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dressed this casually.

“Hey, baby.” She stands up and comes to me. She’s smiling, but it’s not reaching her eyes at all.

“Hi. Are you ready to go?” she asks.

“Actually, there are some people I want you to meet. Please just listen to what they have to say.” She looks up at me nervously.

We step inside the conference room. She notices Matt and Debbie and freezes in the doorway.

“Mila, this is Matt and Debbie. Their son, Max, was adopted through our foster-to-adopt program.”

The couple gets up and shakes Mila’s hand, who I can see is reluctant to shake theirs. I pull out Mila’s chair for her to sit.

“Mila, Brian asked us to come and talk to you. If it’s okay, I’d love to share our story with you,” Debbie says as she pulls her chair closer to Mila.

We listen as over the next half hour Debbie shares her struggle after a procedure caused her to become infertile. She shares about her struggle with depression and the mental toll it began to take on their marriage. Debbie shares that Matt had been the one to look into foster-to-adopt because regular adoption was too expensive. Even though there was always a risk that the child would go back to their birth parents, the foster-to-adopt program worked for them.

“Max wasn’t our first child. We had a little girl for three months before she went to a family member of her birth mom. I won’t lie, it was extremely hard to get attached and then watch her go, but it was what was best for her. Then, about six months later, they had Max for us, and I’ll admit a part of me was hesitant to take him. What if we fell in love with him and they take him away? I sucked it up and said yes and a year ago, we officially adopted him.”

I smile across the table at them because I’ve been with them since they started their journey. Mila doesn’t say much. She smiles at them politely and stands to say good-bye to them. Debbie, of course, offers to be available if Mila wants to talk.

I see them out and then step back into the room and shut the door.

“You had no right to do that,” Mila says quietly.

“What?” I ask.

“You had no right to share my business with some stranger. I will decide what’s best for me, not have you shoving it in my face.” She is pacing back and forth in front of me.

“I just wanted you to meet someone who has gone through something similar as you. Is that so wrong? You’ve been so fucking sad since Marti was born. I just wanted to give you some hope.” I’m starting to get pissed. “I love you. I just wanted to help.”

“Fuck you, Brian. I didn’t ask for your help. We’re not married. You’re not my husband. Don’t try to help me!”

“So what? Are you just going to wallow in self-pity that you can’t have kids of your own, which, forgive me if I’m wrong, but you have your ovaries, so surrogacy could be an option for you as well. No, we’re not married, but did you ever think that I’m doing all of this because I want a future with you, that maybe I want to marry you? I love you, I swear to Christ I do, but I can’t watch you slip away from me every time someone we know has a baby because you beat yourself up over something that’s beyond your control. We have options, Mila. I’m a fucking social worker! You need to speak to someone about this because this shit is going to eat you alive.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long time. She just stares at me and then, before I can do anything, she’s got her bag and is running out the door.

“I pushed her too hard,” I whisper to myself.

I grab my phone and quickly dial her. It goes right to voicemail. Before I can think better of it, I throw my phone across the room. I should go after her, but maybe space is what we both need right now. Hell, I don’t know what I need, but I know I need her.

When I step out of the conference room, no one is around, thank God. I head to my desk, grab my case files and my laptop, and go try to find Mila. I know I should give her space, but I can’t do it.

***

It’s a little after six by the time I make it home. Mila wasn’t at her place, her brother’s, or the gallery. Nico asked what was going on when I showed up there, but I didn’t want to go into it, at least not until I’ve found her and talked to her.

I grab my phone and try calling her again, but again it goes straight to voicemail. “Baby, please call me back. I’m sorry, okay. It’s just I love you and you don’t have to give birth to a child to be a parent to them, to love them. I was eleven when my parents took me in, but they didn’t love me any less than if I was biologically theirs. They’re
my
parents, and nothing will ever change that. I want to give that to a child in need. I want them to feel all of the love we have to give because I felt it and it feels damn good.” I sigh because it’s not like she’s listening to me right now. “Just call me or text me, please. Let me know you’re okay.”

With a
thunk
, the phone hits the coffee table after I drop it. I get up and grab a beer out of the fridge, slamming it down before walking back into the living room. I hate feeling so lost. I thought I was helping her by letting her hear someone else’s story. I’ve never felt out of my depth like this before. Have I lost her for good?

Chapter Sixteen

Mila

I’ve been sitting in the corner of Starbucks for the past two hours, not really knowing what to do. When I walked out on Brian earlier, I felt like a part of me was dying. I was so incredibly cruel to him when I left and all he was trying to do was help me. It was a lot easier to lash out than admit that I was scared to death.

What if we got married and did the foster-to-adopt thing and I couldn’t love that child because they weren’t biologically mine? It would break my heart because it would crush Brian and that poor child would grow up not feeling any love from me.

After the first few texts and phone calls from Brian, I powered down my phone. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t know what to say. As I sip my latte, I stare out the window, watching as the rain falls steadily. It fits my maudlin mood perfectly. I need to talk to someone and normally I’d call my brother, but with the new baby, he’s busy. I don’t want to bother him with my troubles.

With a press of the button, I power my phone up.

I listen to Brian’s last message and feel the tears pool in my eyes. My vision is blurred. Everything he says is everything that scares me to death. I shake it off and pull up my contacts. It’s late, but hopefully she’ll answer.

“Mila?”

“
Ciao
, Mamma.”

The tears fall in earnest as I tell her about today and my fight with Brian. I tell her that I’m scared that we’ll get a child and I won’t be able to love them.

“Oh honey, that’s understandable, but that’s not you. Whatever you decide to do, you’ll be an amazing mother. Baby, I hate that you feel like this and I wish it wouldn’t have happened to you. No matter how you become a mamma, you’ll love that child with all you’ve got. Go talk to Brian, my darling. He sounds like a wonderful man. Go apologize.”

“What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“Sweetheart, if he can’t forgive you for being scared then you don’t want him anyway. Go talk to him and apologize. Call me tomorrow, my love.”

She hangs up and I put my phone back in my purse. While finishing my drink, I summon the strength to go to Brian’s and grovel.

Before I head to Brian’s place, I stop by my house to shower and grab some clean clothes. I also send my brother a text, letting him know that I’m okay and that I’m heading to Brian’s house. He texts back that he’s here for me if I need to talk. I promise to come see them and the babies soon.

When I pull into Brian’s driveway, all of the lights are out. I’m quiet as I let myself in and lock the door behind me. I leave my bag by the front door and walk on silent feet toward his room. My stomach twists and turns the closer I get to his bedroom. What if he tells me to fuck off?

I step inside the bedroom and find Brian snoring softly. After undressing, I pull back the blankets and slide in next to him. His back is to me, so I slide in close, my breasts smashed up against his back. It’s not hard to know the moment he knows I’m here because his body freezes.

“I’m so sorry I was cruel when all you were doing was trying to help me. I’m scared. I’m scared that we’ll do this and I won’t ever love the child like I should and then I’ll destroy their life. I’m scared that if I can’t do it, that you’ll leave. I’m fucking scared that I would be a terrible mother.” I take a deep breath. “I’m just scared, Brian, but the only thing that doesn’t scare me is the fact that I love you.”

He rolls over to face me, and even in the dark, I can see him. His lips touch mine and I begin to cry. Brian silences my crying with his mouth. He moves between my legs and begins to push inside of me. Together we move, never looking away from the other.

In an embarrassingly short time, I begin to come and he follows behind me. He pulls out and adjusts us so my head is resting on his bare chest. We talk late into the night about our future. Together, the possibilities are endless.

Brian’s quiet strength will always keep me grounded, and when I’m scared, I just need to tell him. When he tells me it’s going to be okay, I just need to believe him, my hero.